


Obsessions Release

by katie_delaney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, Dancing, Deepthroating, Dom Draco Malfoy, First Time, M/M, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katie_delaney/pseuds/katie_delaney
Summary: Harry is convinced Draco has given him a love potion, on confronting him he is forced to face an inconvenient truth about himself.Will be very smutty/moderate bdsm, tame in first chapter. Warnings for breathplay.Set during the Half Blood Prince, will run through to the end of the Deathly Hallows. Work in progress. Unbeta-ed, volunteers welcome.





	1. Chapter 1

Dance classes with the Slytherins were never going to go well. It had been Neville’s fault, suggesting to one of the teachers that if the Yule Ball had been good for relations between the three schools, surely it could be good for strengthening relationships between the houses at ‘this challenging time’. Even the teachers knew Neville was just desperate to get his dancing shoes on again but they’d agreed anyway.

Harry wasn’t concentrating, he only really paid attention now in classes he thought would be useful against Voldemort. Dancing his way out of a fight wasn’t a tactic he’d considered. That was why he’d been staring into space when McGonagall told them all to choose a partner. It was also why he and Malfoy now stood in the middle of the dance floor looking at each other with identical expressions of horror.

“Oh, come on now.” McGonagall rolled her eyes at them. “Mr Malfoy, you lead. It’s just dancing, honestly.”

“It’s a shame it's so important that I remain at Hogwarts, or I’d leave this ridiculous class.” Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically and put his hand on Harry’s waist.

Harry considered faking a sudden stomach upset.

“Well come on then!” Malfoy shook his hand waiting in the air for Harry’s. “You do know how to dance don’t you?”

 “Of course I do!”

Malfoys mouth twitched.

“God help the Dark Lord if I was such a bad liar,” he whispered in Harry’s ear as he finally took his hand.

“Five, six, seven, eight...“ McGonagall counted.

“I knew it. I knew you were helping him.”

“Yeah, what you going to do? Tell Dumbledore? Doesn’t believe a word you say does he?” Malfoy sneered.

Harry was trying desperately to keep up with Draco’s steps and cursed as he stumbled.

“I’ll find a way to prove it.” Harry hissed back.

“Going all Parseltongue on me Potter? Godric Gryffindor would be ashamed. And not just of your awful dancing. Step, Potter, step, step, turn, now step, step, other way... God what did they teach you at muggle primary school?”

Harry was too out of breath to come up with a proper retort.

“Maths.”

“Maths?” Malfoy scoffed. “Not enough to realise when the odds are stacked against you, chosen one.”

“It’s called bravery. “

“Turn, back, turn, towards me. Stupidity, Potter, is the word you’re looking for.”

Malfoys hand was heavy on his hip, guiding him round the room and into every step for the next half an hour of the class. He’d been praying Malfoy would insist to switch partners, but he was apparently having far too much fun mocking Harry’s dancing.

It was just impossible to concentrate on dancing and retorting to Malfoy’s constant provocations at the same time. Harry opted for silence and getting his steps right. He managed eight bars before Malfoy put him off again.

“Did you know you go cross eyed when you concentrate really hard?”

Harry glared up at him and missed a step, tripped and fell on Malfoy. Malfoy laughed, cruel as always.

“Honestly, Potter, if you wanted to get closer you could have just said so...” Malfoy raked a hand through Harry’s hair and pulled him up against him hard.

Harry’s skin prickled and his cock hardened.

“Like you’d know what to do with me.” Harry had panicked. It just slipped out. He had no idea what he was thinking of. He’d heard it in a movie once.

“What do you mean? I’m an expert at deflowering virgins.”

“I’m not a fucking virgin.” These things just kept coming out his mouth. His kiss with Cho was as far as he’d got with anyone.

“I’ll say it again, Potter, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh promises.”

The music stopped and Harry pulled away.

“Right, that’s enough for today everyone.”

Harry turned and looked desperately for Ron and Hermione. He was flustered, sweating and still had a slight erection. Malfoy looked completely unruffled.

“You alright, mate?” Ron slapped his hand on Harry’s back.

Harry tried not to jump half a foot in the air.

“Y-yeah.”

“Survive your Malfoy encounter?” Ron asked.

“He’s lucky he bloody survived it.”

Ron laughed and Hermione joined them at their other side after spending the class being spun around the room by Neville.

“A good dancer is a very appealing quality in the opposite sex you know, you boys should pay attention.”

Harry and Ron exchanged an eye roll.

“Maybe for you,” Ron said.

She huffed and marched off ahead of them.

“Since when does Malfoy know how to dance?” Harry complained as they followed Hermione down the staircase.

“He’s a posh git, Harry, of course he knows how to dance.”

“Twat. I bet he can play rugby too.”

“What’s rugby?”

“Never mind. Muggle sport. Mostly involves running into each other and fighting over a ball in a big heap.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Oh, you play it on the ground though.”

“Oh.” Ron frowned. “What’s the point then?”

“There’s a bit more to it than _that_.” Hermione fell back into step with them.

“I’m not sure that there is.” Harry had tried multiple times to understand the game that he watched from his seat on the Dursleys’ living room floor, a book balanced in between his knees, trying not to move an inch or make a sound.

Harry tuned out as Hermione tried to explain the rules of Rugby to Ron. Harry’s attention was fixed on the streak of platinum bobbing along in the crowd ahead of them.

“Right, Harry?” Ron asked.

The platinum disappeared down the stairs and Harry came back to himself.

“Right,” Harry confirmed.

He had no idea what he’d agreed to, but it caused Hermione to shake her head at them both and make a quick exit diving into the girl’s bathroom.

“Watch out for trolls!” Ron called after her just before the door slammed shut.

Harry choked back a laugh.

“Too soon? Come on, that was years ago!”

*

Harry jolted from his dream. Nightmare. He definitely wasn’t hard. In the dream he’d been dancing with Malfoy and Malfoy kept pulling him closer and chuckling in his ear.

Harry shuddered and took a few gulps of water from the glass on his nightstand. He stared at the scarlet bed hangings and concentrated on the gold trim. He counted the strands of thread he could see. One, two, three, four. He forced the image of Malfoy out of his head with golden fibres. He looked in between his legs and gritted his teeth at the sight of his sheets tenting in front of him.

He closed his eyes, but the image of Malfoy flashed up again. He snapped them open and stared at the curtains some more. Malfoy’s scent was everywhere, lingering. He couldn’t quite place it. A certain aftershave he’d not smelled before combined with a washing powder that Aunt Petunia wished she could afford.

Harry splashed some water on himself as a last resort to quell the madness rising within. He didn’t not care how Malfoy smelled. He cared what Malfoy was up to. About what was so important that he had to stay at school to take care of. The task that Voldemort had assigned to him.

The cold water quelled Harry’s erection and he let his head drop back down into the pillow. It was just a stupid dream. Sometimes he dreamed that he was naked flying around on winged desks in the Great Hall. It didn’t mean he wanted it to happen. Or that he was fantasising about it.

He thought of the least sexual thing he could imagine. He thought about the time Hagrid had taken him out to the Forbidden Forest to help him shovel Centaur manure into a giant wheelbarrow. Hagrid swore it was the best fertilizer he’d ever used in his life. Harry had spent the entire three hours breathing through his mouth and trying not to pass out. The memory worked well. His body relaxed, more intent on repulsion that arousal, and Harry managed to close his eyes without the imagine of Malfoy popping up again.

                                                                        *

Harry’s eyes would not stop finding Malfoy in the corridor between classes, in the great hall at meal times. He already knew Malfoy’s timetable from before, when he was trying to work out what he was up to. He found himself taking shortcuts, that were actually detours, that would lead to him walking past Malfoy on his way out of class.

What was unnerving about the recent development in his obsession with Malfoy was that to Hermione and Ron, nothing had changed. They rolled their eyes just the same when Harry didn’t answer because he was too busy staring at Malfoy. When he suggest they take a detour to ‘keep an eye on him’.

“Harry. Mate. You need to get a grip.”

“Ron’s right, Harry,” Hermione said. “Even if Voldemort has, for some inexplicable reason, entrusted his plans to a 17-year-old boy, I don’t think Malfoy’s going to give away some vital clue about them over dinner that you’ll be able to hear from two tables away.”

Harry pulled his eyes away from Malfoy. He thought it would be easier to go along with the pretence.

“He might! He’s up to something. I know he is!”

They both looked bored enough that Harry could rest assured they’d been fooled. He had no idea what to do about this. He’d never had this problem before. With Cho he quite liked her. He’d really wanted to kiss her and hold her hand, but it hadn’t felt like this. Blind obsession. It wasn’t normal. Ron didn’t stare at Hermione like this. Sure, Ron and Lavender had been attached at the lips for a few weeks, but that was different. At least two people had been equally participating in that obsession. This was creepy and weird.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the pressure of Malfoy’s body against his own. About the goosebumps that had prickled down his neck as he’s whispered in his ear.

He was running his thumb down the contents page of his text book in Potions that he realised what must be going on.

Love Potion.

Of course. It was obvious now. These feelings for Malfoy were completely random , had come out of nowhere and were verging on blind obsession. He cursed himself for being so stupid and not having caught on earlier. Obviously Malfoy had slipped a love potion into his drink. There was no doubt about it now. He remembered the day Ron had accidentally taken one, he was delirious.

He glared at Malfoy over his cauldron. Malfoy looked up and mouthed ‘what’ at him over his cauldron.

Harry glared harder.

Well, his little joke was over. He’d seen from Slughorn how easily these things were reversed.

“Hermione,” Harry said quietly. “I need to talk to you about something.”

She gave him an exasperated look.

“What’s Malfoy plotting now?”

“No, I’m serious, I need your help. But…I can’t tell Ron about it.”

“Why?”

“You’ll understand when I tell you.”

“Anything you can tell me you can tell Ron, surely!”

“He’d never stop laughing.”

Ron came up behind them.

“What are you too looking so serious about?”

“Oh, Professor Slughorn was telling us about an extra credit project that he wants to do, we’re going to the library, do you want to come?” Hermione asked.

Ron pulled a face.

“Erm, no…I’m gonna go get lunch. See you guys down there?”

“Okay.”

They headed towards the library and Harry waited until Ron was out of earshot.

“You’re a terrifyingly good liar, Hermione.”

She gave him a sly smile and led the way to the library.

“Okay,” she said as they scrapped back their chairs. “So, what’s the problem?”

Harry’s chest tightened. He cast his eyes round the library to check for any lurking students. It was empty, everyone was at dinner.

“I…” Harry sighed, closed his eyes and started again. “I think Malfoys given me a love potion.”

Hermione’s face contorted as she tried to conceal her laughter.

“What?”

“Shh!”

“What?” she whispered. “Why on earth would he do that?”

“I don’t fucking know! God knows what he’s up to, maybe it’s what Voldemort asked him to do?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!”

Hermione took a deep breath.

“Okay, so, you think Malfoy’s give you a love potion, because?”

“Because I’m obsessed with him.”

“You were obsessed with him before.”

“But…now it’s, different.”

“How?”

Harry groaned.

“Sex. I keep thinking about having sex with him, Hermione, and kissing him.”

“Think about?”

“Fantasising about! Fine. Erections. Hermione.”

“Oh.” She didn’t blush in the slightest. “Well, have you thought about the fact that you might just fancy him?”

“No! This is a love potion Hermione, there is nothing to fancy about Malfoy. I hate him! It just happened over night, like I’d been spiked.”

She pursed her lips.

“Okay. Well, if you have, that’s not a problem, we can just brew you an antidote.”

“Yes, great, that’s why I need your help.”

“Does the Halfblood Prince not have any love potion antidotes scribbled in the margins?” she drawled.

“No. I checked.”

“Okay, well, they’re simple enough. Let me get find the book.”

Harry sighed in relief and relaxed back into the chair. It was all going to be okay. Hermione would fix him, and Malfoy’s childish little trick would be over. He jumped as she dropped a pile of books on the table.

“Why are there so many?”

“Well it depends which love potion he’s used, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?”

“Yes! Honestly, Harry. Do you ever pay attention in class?”

Harry shrugged.

“Or are you always too busy staring into Malfoy’s eyes?”

Harry glared at her and she laughed, pushing a book towards him.

“We need to try and find the one that sounds like the one you’re experiencing. Start looking.”

Harry groaned, not finding the quick fix he wanted.

After twenty minutes he snapped the book closed in frustration.

“They all sound the same.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“They’ve got subtle differences. I’m sure if you went to Slughorn he’d work out which one it was straight away.”

“I am not going to one of the teachers and telling them Malfoy spiked me with a love potion. It was bad enough telling you!”

“Well keep reading then.”

Another twenty minutes passed and Hermione tapped her pen against the page.

“This one. This one sounds likely. It’s called obsession, for a start, and it more focused on infatuation and sexual desire rather than your traditional romantic love potion.”

“Are these even legal?”

“Of course they’re not! Does Malfoy seem like the kind of person that would bother?”

“Well no, but, if they’re illegal why are there instructions on how to brew them in the library?”

“Because you can only buy the ingredients on the black market, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Harry nodded. “Can you get the ingredients for the antidote?”

“If you’ve still got you invisibility cloak and are willing to risk Snape’s wrath then, of course!”

“Great.”

“Now come on, let’s put these books back and get to class.”

Harry stomach rumbled in protest of missing lunch.

“I thought I’d find you two still in here!” Ron came round the corner.

Harry resisted the urge to throw himself over the books to hide his secret from him. He knew Ron wouldn’t give the books a second glance. He handed them some sandwiches.

“Brought you a snack before Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Thanks mate, you’re amazing.”

Hermione gave her squashed cheese sandwich a sceptical look but smiled at Ron all the same.

“Thank you.”

                                                            *

Hermione yawned as they sat down on the floor of the girl’s bathroom with their cauldron. Harry was wide awake, happy occupy the hours between midnight and 6am with something other than explicit dreams about Malfoy. He didn’t even know he knew the things he was dreaming about. How the ideas of all the different ways men could fuck had made it into his brain he had no idea. He assumed it was the potion.

“Tell me it doesn’t take as long as the Polyjuice.”

“No, it should only take a couple of hours.”

Harry nodded, peering into the cauldron.

“Don’t set your hopes too high, Harry, you know there’s lots of combinations we’ll have to try.”

“I know.”

                                                                        *

Two hours and five minutes later Harry was curled up in agony on the floor, cold stone tiles pressed up against his face.

“Harry? Harry are you okay? I think we need to take you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry managed to shake his head through the pain.

“No, no, it’s fine, this must mean it’s working!”

“It doesn’t say anything about cramps in the book Harry.”

“It’s cleansing me!”

“I’m waiting half an hour. If it’s not stopped I’m taking you to the hospital Wing.”

Harry nodded reluctantly, wondering if he’d still be conscious if the pain continued for half an hour.

Eventually it subsided and Harry heaved in a breath.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he panted.

“You don’t look okay, Harry.”

He pulled himself up onto his knees.

“No, really, it’s passed. I just feel exhausted.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Hermione, I think I just need to go to bed and sleep it off.”

“If it gets any worse—“ she started.

“I promise I’ll come and get you.”

“Okay, fine, come on, let’s get back before we get caught.”

Harry stood himself up on shaky legs and walked back with Hermione, trying to ignore the sideways looks she was giving him, like he might drop down dead at any minute.

“Has it worked?”

“Well, I haven’t thought of him since the cramps started.”

“Good!”

They went their separate ways at the staircases. Harry crept into bed and closed his eyes, falling into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

                                                                        *

“Harry?” Ron shook him awake.

Harry groaned.

“What?”

“Hermione said to come and check you were still alive. Also, it’s time for breakfast.”

Harry nodded. He did seem to be alive, if drained.

He put on his clothes and shuffled down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione. Hermione didn’t say anything, just looked him over quickly to check he was okay.  

He helped himself to the English Breakfast Hermione pushed in front of him and thought nothing sexual in any way. Until the blonde walked in. Harry’s body yearned, blood flowed to the wrong place and his heart skipped. Harry slammed his cutlery down on the table in frustration, attracting concerned glances from people who already thought he was round the twist.

Draco only glanced at him before going to sit down with his fellow Slytherins.

Hermione caught his eye and Harry shook his head. She gave an exasperated sigh. Harry waited until they were walking out together to talk to her privately. He’d pulled her to the side in one of the annexes but he hadn’t even opened his mouth before she shot him down.

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Why not?”

“Are you kidding? Harry that potion could have killed you. It was reckless of me to even try it, they’re not reputable potions Harry, not approved, they could have done anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Hermione went to pull away and carry on down the corridor. Harry took her arm.

“But _Hermione_. You’ve got to help me. I can’t live like this.”

“Harry don’t be dramatic, it’s probably just a crush potion, it’ll wear off.”

“It’s not wearing off!”

“If you’re that worried about it go to one of the teachers,” she huffed.

“Hermione!”

She pulled her arm out his grip and walked down the corridor.

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to brew them myself then.”

She gave him a sceptical look, like Harry couldn’t even manage to make a cup of coffee on a bad day.

“You won’t have the Half Blood Prince to help you on this one Harry.”

“Maybe I don’t need it!”

                                                            *

Harry was sitting in the girls’ bathroom at midnight frowning over a cauldron and seriously regretting his words. The mixture in his cauldron looked like wet soil that had been lurking at the bottom of a drain for several months. It smelt much the same. He was trying to contemplate whether his stubbornness and loathing for his new ‘feelings’ about Malfoy were worth drinking/eating the sludge at the bottom of his cauldron when a pair of size four patent shoes came into view. The sheen on Hermione’s tights glistened in the candlelight.

“You’re not seriously considering ingesting that?” She whipped the cauldron from under his nose and took it to a toilet cubicle. It dropped into the water with stomach turning _slop_.

Harry’s insides relax in relief.

“Come on then, which potion you were trying?” She walked to the sinks to swill out the cauldron.

Harry cringed.

“Loves Release.”

“It sounds like a trashy romance novel.” She brought the cauldron back over and knelt down next to him on the floor. “We seriously need to find a better place to do this, Harry, it’s murder on my tights.”

“Thank you.”

She gave him a small smile and ran her index finger down the ingredients list.

He crossed his legs and watched her work, wondering if he could learn something.

                                                                        *

They were in the library several weeks later when Hermione finally admitted defeat, closing shut the last book and emitting a cloud of dust that clung to her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, Harry. That’s the last potion.”

Harry was silent, he knew better than to question whether Hermione had made the potions correctly.

“The only way I can see of reversing it is if you find out what he’s giving you.”

Harry groaned.

“The thing is though,” she said tentatively, “it’s been weeks now. I don’t think it would still be working. Unless he was constantly slipping it to you.”

“He must be.”

“But how, Harry? He can’t have laced anything at meals without giving him it to the whole table, and I don’t see anyone else in Gryffindor house swooning over him.”

Harry frowned.

“Maybe he’s got someone in the house to do it. One of the first years.”

Hermione pulled a face.

“No, you’re right,” Harry conceded, “that’s ridiculous.”

They sat in silence, staring and the book that lay in between then.

“I’ll have to confront him. It’s the only way. I’ll make him tell me how he’s doing it, what he’s using. Then we can find out how to reverse it.”

Hermione winced.

“Promise me you’ll be careful? I don’t know what Malfoy’s up to lately, but he does seem... Darker. Somehow.”

“Don’t worry. My duelling skills are much better than my potion skills.”

“I was more hoping you’d take him to see a teacher, Harry, so you could resolve this without violence?”

“Yeah, of course, I was only joking.”

“Of course you were.”

                                                                        *


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

Harry gave a small smile as pouring over the Marauders Map every night finally proved fruitful. Malfoy had been suspiciously well behaved in the evenings that week, returning to the Slytherin common room after dinner and not leaving until breakfast the next morning. Now Harry watched as Malfoy snuck out of his room at 11pm. He thought he’d be headed for the room of requirement and frowned as instead he saw Malfoy’s footsteps trace a path to the bathroom. He couldn’t think of what he could possibly be doing in there in the middle of the night. Maybe he wasn’t the only who chose the unused girl's bathroom as the prime potion brewing place. That would be perfect, if he caught him in the act of brewing the potion. He wouldn’t even have to force the secret out of him. He’d just stun Malfoy, take the potion and the book to Hermione and get her to find the antidote. Sorted.

He was hopeful for the first time in weeks.

He climbed out of bed, threw the invisibility cloak around his shoulders, and put on his shoes. Wand clutched in hand he made his way to the bathroom. Wind whistled through the castle corridors, biting at the exposed area between Harry’s socks and his cloak. He pulled his cloak tighter round himself and cursed himself for coming out in his Gryffindor pyjamas and polished shoes. He wondered if he could look any more ridiculous.

The door to the bathroom was open a crack and he heard faint sobbing coming from inside. Malfoy must be bullying one of the younger students for information. Harry slammed open the door, ridiculous attire forgotten, ready to come down on Malfoy like a tonne of bricks.

The sobbing came to a gasping stop and Harry realised he was alone with Malfoy in the bathroom. Malfoy whirled round and glared at him.

“What the hell do you want, Potter?”

Harry paused, confused by the sight of Malfoy red eyed and distraught.

“I wondered what you were up to in here, Malfoy, in the girl's bathroom, in the middle of the night.”

“Been promoted to Prefect, have we?” Malfoy sneered. “Maybe I’m waiting for a date, Potter.”

“That you’re crying over? Not all the Slytherins are that bad looking, surely?”

“Fuck off.” His scowl sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

Surely it was not normal to be attracted to someone who sulked this much. It reminded him of his main objective.

Harry brought his wand up.

“I need information.”

Malfoy wiped his face and drew himself up to his full height.

“What makes you think I know anything? Or that I’d tell you if I did?”

“Look, Malfoy. I won’t tell the teachers. I don’t need to know why. I just need to know what it is so I can reverse it.”

For once Malfoy looked completed dumbfounded.

“What the hell are you blathering on about?”

“I told you. I know what you’ve done. I don’t know if it was a prank, or something Voldemort told you to do, but I need to know the reversal potion.”

He edged closer to Malfoy, backing him up against the sinks. The Slytherin was reaching behind him for his wand.

“Potter, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll go to Dumbledore, Malfoy. Can’t be Voldemort little spy if he suspends you, can you?”

“For doing what?!”

The hot air from Malfoy’s breath hit Harry’s cheek. Harry had his wand to Malfoy’s throat. Malfoy had his wand to Harry’s waist.

“You’ve poisoned me. Slipping me love potions. Or lust, obsession, whatever the hell you used.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“I don’t know! You tell me! Part of Voldemort’s plan. Distract me, get me out of the way before he strikes?”

The look Draco gave him cut through all his assumptions.

“You self-centred wanker. God, it's got to you, hasn’t it? Them telling you you’re the chosen one. The only one that can stop Voldemort? Do you really think you’re so important that it’s you he’d be worried about when taking on this castle full of experienced wizards? Potter, just how up your own arse have you become?”

Harry blushed as Malfoy reduced his theories to dust.

“Well why then?”

Malfoy shook his head.

“I haven’t been giving you anything, Potter, I swear. I have bigger things on my mind that amusing myself by making you fall in love with Professor Sprout or whoever it is you’ve developed sudden affections for.”

“Liar.”

“Potter, you could pour Veritaserum down my throat and I would give you the same answer.”

“Shall we try?”

“I’d let you. My answer is still the fucking same. Now, would you please step aside? I’d love to hex you to kingdom come, but father is rather keen that I complete my education, and I wouldn’t want to get expelled.”

Harry stepped back. He didn’t trust himself in such close proximity to Malfoy. There was something about the way he spoke, smirked, smiled, the way he drawled. The way he fucking stood. God. He was smitten. It was disgusting.

“Who is the lucky woman? Man? House elf? You might want to consider that you just have a teenage crush, Potter. I know you’ve been brought up to think that the world revolves around you, but I can’t think of anyone spending that much time directing your affections.”

Harry must have let something slip on his face. He had no idea what gave him away, but Malfoy knew. An expression of disbelief gave way to one of pure amusement.

“Me? Potter, do you honestly think I have nothing better to do?”

“You…to distract me from the Dark Lord…you…”

The tears of laughter in Malfoy’s eyes made Harry realise Malfoy was telling the truth. Harry flushed deep red and grabbed his invisibility cloak, ready to bring it up over himself and hide in it for the rest of the year.

“Gods, Potter, what is it like to be that self-obsessed?”

“I’m not! I just…”

“Or do you really detest me that much that the only way you can imagine feeling anything but loathing for me is a love potion?”

“I…I’m going to leave now.”

Harry pulled back but Malfoy had a hard grip on his cloak.

“Are you?”

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to get out of there.

Malfoy grabbed him by the cloak and whirled him round, pushing him back up against the sink.

“Maybe it’s because of my dancing skills?” He slid his hands round Harry’s waist. “Or do you just like bad boys?”

“Wh-what are you doing?” Harry had forgotten how to breathe.

Draco’s hard body against his own was surpassing everything he’d imagined. The smell of the sweat on Malfoy’s skin from their scuffle was making Harry light headed. He wanted to push his face into Draco’s neck to inhale him deeper.

“Letting off some steam? Wondering just how big the boy wonders dick is?”

He put his mouth to Harry’s neck and bit down.

In Harry’s fantasies there would be some reason he could trust Draco, blackmail, an unbreakable vow, a reason they could be together. In reality there was absolutely no reason to trust Draco. Yet he was showing no resistance as Draco pushed him back against the sinks, plunging his hand inside his trousers.

“Ah!” Harry grabbed a fistful of Draco’s hair and pulled hard.

He thought he was going to get a smack in the face for daring to touch Draco’s hair but instead he earned himself a low moan in his ear and a hand around his leaking cock.

“Mmm, Potter, that is impressive.”

Draco pushed him up against the wall by his chest with his forearm and held him there hard. Harry bucked in Draco’s unmoving hand and whimpered.

“I bet you could come like this, couldn’t you, Potter?”

The edge on Draco’s voice was making him harder. That quiet malice that always lurked behind his eyes. His nails biting into his skin.

“Getting yourself off against my hand?” Draco asked.

“Fuck, Malfoy, I…” Harry’s heart beat was pounding in his ears. Every fibre of his being shouting yes and no at the same time.

“Wouldn’t you rather I got on my knees and sucked you off?” Draco sucked on his neck pointedly. “Do you think I’m good? Have you imagined face fucking me with that righteous hero cock of yours? Do I choke on it? Swallow it down?”

Harry’s eyes were wide with images he’d never dared to imagine before.

“Would I be a good little slut for you, Harry? Bend over and let you shag me senseless? Letting you pound my depraved arse into next week?”

Harry rested his head against Draco’s shoulder, unable to keep it up any longer. Draco’s moved his hand slowly over Harry’s cock and slid his thumb over the head.

“It’s too bad, Potter.” Draco hissed in his ear.

Harry knew he should be wary but all it did was make him harder.

“Because you’re an arrogant, self-righteous, mudblood piece of shit, and it’s never. Going. To. Happen.”

Harry opened his eyes to see Draco glaring at him.

Draco slid his forearm up, pressing it down over Harry’s throat. Harry’s survival instinct final kicked in, fear jolted through him and he struggled in Draco’s grip. He scrambled for his wand but it was nowhere to be found. He must have dropped it on the floor.

“Keep still.” Draco touched his wand to Harry’s wrist, whispered a spell and Harry’s hands stuck firmly to his sides.

Draco moved his hand to grip Harry’s neck, the other still wrapped round Harry’s cock.

Harry groaned, pushing into Draco’s hand.

Draco’s mouth twitched.

“Like that do we? Pervert. I could serve you up to Voldemort like this. The boy who lived with his dick out, gagging for a Malfoy.”

Draco squeezed harder on Harry’s throat till Harry could barely draw in a breath. Draco lifted him with strength Harry thought he’d couldn’t possibly have. It must be a potion. A spell.

“Okay, Potter, let’s see what you’ve got…” Draco pumped Harry’s cock hard and fast, his other hand still unrelenting on his neck.

Harry tried to gasp in vain, his head spinning, adrenaline through the roof, his eyes rolled back into his head, trying to scream against Malfoy’s hand. Harry could swear he was floating. He was light headed, higher and harder than he’d ever been in his life.

Malfoy took a small step back, staring at him intently, jerking him off fast, waiting patiently for him to come undone.

Harry’s body trembled, spasmodic jerks that made Draco give him that evil smile again.

“Yeah, that’s it, Potter, come on…come nice and hard for me.”

Light exploded in Harry’s head as he came violently. Draco held him up against the wall tight by his neck all through his spasm and tremors, seemingly unconcerned by the cum that came from Harry in endless threads, covering Draco’s trousers.

Draco took his hands away abruptly, letting Harry fall in a heap on the floor. Harry gasped oxygen back into his lungs. His bare forearms against the cold tiles bringing him back to earth.

Draco stood over him with his hands on his hips.

“Enjoy that?”

Harry couldn’t form words. Enjoy wasn’t the one he wanted. He wasn’t aware it was possible to feel so exhilarated and satisfied, yet so ashamed and humiliated at the same time.

“Poor little boy wonder.” Draco ruffled Harry’s hair. “It’s not easy being in love, is it?”

Draco adjusted his hair in the mirror, flicked his wand at his trousers, cleaning them perfectly, turned, and walked out.

Harry watched him go silently, his chin on the grimy floor. 

                                                                        *

Draco had a terrifying poker face. Harry had spent the entire night with his face buried in his pillow in humiliation at what he’d let Draco do to him. Facing the facts that there was no love potion. No reason for the heat the coursed through his veins whenever he saw Malfoy. Whenever he bloody breathed. Yet when Harry walked into the great hall Malfoy let his cool gaze slide over him and onto the next person without even a twitch of his lips.

Harry’s cock twitched at the sight of him. He’d thought the obsession couldn’t get worse. He was wrong. Now the sight of Malfoy brought memories of his scent, his touch, his fingernails on his skin. Fuck.

Harry desperately wanted to kiss him. It seemed trivial after what had happened last night, but it was the reining thought in his brain. Not a blow job, or a fuck, or whatever else Malfoy had spoken about last night. He wanted Malfoy’s tongue in his mouth. Their bodies pressed together hard. He wanted the heat back. The pressure.

He swiftly sat opposite to Hermione, his back to the Slytherin table, before his thoughts became too physically obvious. It was quiet at the Gryffindor table, just them, a few first years, and a scattering of students across the other tables. Harry had got bored of staring at his alarm clock at 6am and decided to give in and go to breakfast early. It was the first time he’d seen the Great Hall before 8am.

“Good morning.” Hermione smiled at him, pouring him some pumpkin juice.

“Morning.” He forced a smile. “Thanks.”

“Sleep well?” 

“Yeah okay, you?”

“Yes, it was nice to have a night off potion brewing.”

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“How’s the…feelings?” she whispered.

Harry laughed in spite of his dire situation.

“Still present. My current plan is to ignore it and hope it goes away.”

“You think they’re real?” Her expression was pure horror.

Harry pursed his lips.

“I don’t know what else to think.”

They were both silent for a few minutes. Harry concentrated on the sound of knives and forks scraping on plates and not on the look on Hermione’s face. She went to turn her head.

“Don’t look!” Harry hissed.

Hermione stifled a giggle.

“It’s not funny, Hermione! He’s a Death Eater!”

“It is a little bit funny. And you don’t know that. Harry’s he’s _seventeen_.”

“So?”

“So, I’ve never seen a mark on him. I’ve never seen him do anything worse that name calling.”

“He cursed that necklace!”

“Please, Harry, that’s advanced magic. Even I’d struggle with that.”

Harry frowned.

“I’d expect you of all people to know that just because you’re raised by horrible people, doesn’t make you a horrible person.”

“Malfoy is a horrible person.”

“There’s a big step between a school bully and a Death Eater. A murderer.”

 “What, you think I should go ask him out?”

“No! Of course not. Can you imagine? I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t feel so awful about it. Crushes pass.”

“It’s not a crush.”

“Love?”

“Shut it.”

“Infatuation?”

“There you go.”

“Maybe you’ve just got a thing for blondes?”

“I’d much rather fancy Luna.”

“I think she’s after Neville,” Hermione said.

“I thought he was after Ginny?”

 “And she’s still after you.” Hermione laughed.

Harry closed his eyes.

“Teenage romance is hard.”

“You’re a teenager!” Harry said.

“I think I was born middle aged, actually.”

“Whatever. You have feelings.”

“I do. But they don’t blind me into making reverse love potions in the middle of the night and developing.”

“Well bully for you.”

“Eat something.” Hermione put some toast on his plate. “You’ll feel better.”

Harry smiled at the familiar phrase. God, but what would Remus think of this new development? He shuddered.

Harry was beyond grateful for Hemione not throwing a million and one questions at him. About his sexuality, his preferences, what he was going to do about it. She was shocked, but she wasn’t appalled. She didn’t know what he’d done last night.

He had a mental block on sensible thoughts. He couldn’t begin to process his sexuality right now. He wanted Malfoy. Malfoy was a Death Eater. He hated Malfoy. This was all he had on the subject.

He managed to leave the hall without giving Malfoy a second glance. He didn’t even know if the Slytherin was still there.

“I assume we won’t be telling Ron about this,” Hermione said quietly as they walked up to the common room.

“No. No thank you.”

She nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

He was sitting in Defence against the dark arts studying a particularly dull paragraph when a tiny piece parchment whizzed through a crack in the window and onto his desk. Harry frowned and caught it in his fingers before it could attract Snape’s attention. It wriggled in his hand, refusing to be ignored. Harry gave up and opened it as subtly as he could. 

Ink appeared on the page. 

_Seriously, Potter, do you ever go anywhere in the castle without your entourage?_

It vanished from the parchment. Harry’s stomach turned. He was sure this was just a school boy trick, probably from Malfoy, but after his experience with the diary in second year he was wary. 

_Malfoy?_

_Yes_ _you prat._

_What do you want?_

_I’ve been thinking about fingering your arsehole_

Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand, flushing bright red. His darted his eyes around the classroom but everyone else had their gaze fixed on their text books. Snape caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. Harry blushed even harder and looked back down at his desk. Mortified. 

The parchment started to wriggle again

_Come on Potter don’t get all shy on me._

_What do you want?_

_To face fuck the_ _boy_ _wonder into next week?_

_Shag Potter. I want a shag._

_Meet me in the room of requirement at lunch._

_Don’t stand me up._

The parchment incinerated with a tiny puff of black smoke. Harry swore under his breath and sucked at his singed fingers. 

He looked at the clock: lunch was in half an hour. There was barely time to panic. To decide whether or not to go. His stomach churned. His cock hardened at the thought of being in a room alone with Malfoy again, let alone any of the things he wanted to do to him. It was probably a trap. A mockery. Blaise had probably been peering over Malfoy’s shoulder when he wrote it. Well Harry hoped they had a bloody good laugh about it too. He gritted his teeth. His blood churned. He stared at the passage they were meant to be reading and didn’t read a word. 

He imagined half Slytherin house waiting for him in the room of requirement, cameras out, ready to tear him to pieces. 

He imagined just Malfoy waiting for him, smirking, with those all knowing eyes. I know your secret Potter. 

How could he have been so stupid as to think it was a love potion? And to confront Malfoy about it of all things. Mortifying. He raked his hand through his hair, tugging on it, wishing for the fifth time that day that he had a Time Turner. Not that it would do anything about his throbbing cock, but it would do something about his severely damaged pride. 

He closed his eyes as the sound of lunch bell rang in his ears, followed by the cacophonous sound of twenty text books being slammed shut. 

Snape glared out over them from his desk. 

“Dismissed.” 

Harry slid out of the classroom before Ron and Hermione could miss him and doubled back into one of the alcoves, waiting for all the students to leave for lunch. He watched them look around, shrug, then carry on without him. He couldn’t lie to them. It would be far easier to avoid. 

He snuck down the corridors, dodging around the students heading down to dinner in their throngs, keeping his head down, trying not to attract attention. One of the many problems of being Harry Potter. 

He told himself he was just going to talk to Malfoy, to see if he could convince him not to tell anyone about this, to somehow escape from this whole embarrassment unscathed. 

He found the place and waited, questioning himself as he always did about whether he’d remembered the location correctly. The bricks began to shift with the click clack sound of magic Harry could only dream of understanding. 

He warily stepped through the parted bricks into a seemingly empty room. He’d never seen it like this before. Bare brick walls, stripped back wooden floor, not even a chair. He checked his watch: 1202. The bricks clicked into life again and Harry turned to face them, slid his wand from his sleeve down into his hand. 

What irritated Harry most was how Malfoy strolled through the door like he hadn’t a care in the world, whilst Harry stood there with his nerves on edge, every muscle tensed. Bastard. 

“Wow, Potter, you run here?” 

“You’re the one that’s late!” He’d meant it to sound casual, but it came out petulant. He tensed all the more. 

“Very sorry to keep you waiting, St Potter, I know your time is precious.” 

“Look, Malfoy, I only came here to—“ 

“To tell me it’s all a big misunderstanding, blah blah, don’t tell anyone?” Draco cut him off. 

“Potter, you’re shaking. You weren’t even this on edge when you were about to face that Horntail.” 

“How would you know?” 

Malfoy walked up to him. Harry stumbled back. Malfoy stepped forward again, put his hands on the outside of Harry’s arms. 

“Maybe I pay a bit more attention than you realise. Relax, Potter.” 

Harry stared at him. 

“The son of Death Eater, and worst enemy in the school is telling me he wants a shag. How, in hell, do you expect me to relax and not think this is some elaborate joke?” 

Malfoy took Harry’s hand and put it to the significant bulge in his trousers. 

“How’s that?” 

Harry’s eyes widened and he stood frozen, torn between pushing his hand down harder and running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. 

Malfoy grinned at the look on his face. 

“Come on, Potter, I promise. It’ll be our little secret.” 

“Last night you said there was no way.” 

“I was just winding you up. Don’t pretend it didn’t make you harder.” 

Harry closed his eyes. 

“You’re a nightmare.” 

“Also, I went to back to my dorm and wanked myself dry thinking about fucking your Gryffindor arse. I’ve been warming up to the idea since then.” 

Malfoy had long ago let go of Harry’s hand. He was keeping it on Malfoy’s crotch completely of his own volition. Harry took a deep breath and pushed his hand down, his heart skipping at Malfoy’s gasp. The bulge grew under his hand and Harry’s fascination with Malfoy’s rapid breathing took over his nerves. He pushed his hand under Malfoy’s waist band, wrapping his hand round his hot cock. 

Malfoy groaned. 

“You always change your mind so suddenly?” He pulled Harry in before he had time to answer and kissed him. Harry froze, wanking each other off was one thing, kissing was another. The idea of having the Prince of Darkness tongue inside his mouth was alarming. 

“No? Come on, Potter, you’ll put your hand on my prick, but you won’t kiss me?” 

Harry’s experiences at kissing had not been amazing. Paranoia sparked that he was going to be crap at it and he’d give Malfoy another reason to make fun of him. Malfoy grabbed the back of his hair, hard, pulling his head back, hovering his lips over Harry’s. Harry flushed as a whimper escaped his lips. 

“God you love it rough, don’t you? ‘Spose you have had a bit of a fucked up childhood. We’re a perfect match. You’re going to love choking on my cock.” 

Harry closed his eyes and let Malfoy clamp his mouth down on his, if only so he’d stop talking so much filth that Harry was worried was entirely true. Harry’s plan backfired, Malfoy’s kisses were as filthy as his words. Harry pushed down Draco’s trousers and pumped his cock, his chest tightening at the idea that he could ever have all that inside him. And that he wanted it. He wanted every fucking inch. He moaned into Draco’s kisses and Draco pulled back, chuckling in his ear. 

“Yeah, you want that don’t you? Does it keep you up all night? Thinking about my prick? Do you think it’ll be even worse, now you know how big it is, how it feels in your hand?” 

“Jesus Christ, Malfoy, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” 

Draco pulled back and grinned at him. 

“You have no idea. How hard is that lovely cock of yours?” He pulled on Harry’s hair when he failed to reply. “Tell me.” 

“Hard.” 

“Painfully?” 

“Mmm.” 

“Say ‘I’m hard for you Draco Malfoy’.” 

Harry spluttered. 

“Come on, I wanna hear it from those innocent lips.” 

“I’m…I’m hard for you Draco Malfoy.” 

Draco grinned. 

“Good boy.” He loosened that grip on Harry’s hair and stroked his hands through it. 

Draco sat down on a chair that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago and kicked off his trousers and pants. 

“Kneel down in between my legs.” 

Harry’s heart thumped in his chest. He couldn’t do this. Could he? He was already so far in, what was the harm of falling a little further, just this once?

He knelt. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

Harry flushed, took it off quickly and threw it to the floor. He wasn’t embarrassed by how he looked, he knew he was in good shape. He was embarrassed that he was following Draco’s every command. 

“Good boy.” 

“I’ve never done this before,” Harry blurted. 

Draco laughed. 

“I know. Don’t worry, just do as I tell you.” 

“If you keep ordering me around like that, I’m gonna come in my fucking boxers.”

Draco grinned. 

“Go for it, I can get you hard again and suck you dry.” 

Harry looked up at Draco, at his face, flushed and with a wide grin spread across it. Harry’s  heart did a somersault. He was screwed. He knew it. It was too late. He pushed the thought away. It was a problem for later. 

The noise Draco made as Harry pushed his lips down his cock made Harry shudder. 

He tried looking down, at Draco’s abs tensing under his shirt, as he sucked, trying to avoid the reality of who’s cock he was sucking. But he wanted to look. He wanted to see the expression on Draco’s face. He needed to please him. Needed to know what he liked best. To burn the image of him with his lips parted, flushed and panting into his brain forever. 

He looked up. Draco was the most relaxed Harry had ever seen him. All his airs and graces were gone, his arms hung loose at his side and his head tipped back. Harry pushed his lips down further experimentally till Draco’s cock brushed the back of his mouth. Harry’s cock became painfully hard. Draco let him go at his own pace for a few minutes before grabbed his hair and pulled his head up. 

“Okay, that’s enough practice, Potter. Now you get a proper cock sucking lesson.” 

Harry let his head go slack in Draco’s grip. 

Draco stood. Harry tried not to tremble in front of him. 

“You afraid of me, Potter?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“You afraid of what I do to you?” 

Harry gave a slight nod. 

“Sensible. If you want me to stop, bang your hand on the floor. Safe words don’t really work when your mouths full.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Open.” Draco ran his finger across Harry’s lips and Harry opened. 

Draco slid two fingers inside Harry’s mouth, then three, sliding them to the back of his throat till Harry gagged. Draco stroked the back of his head. 

“Relax. Try again.” 

Harry managed a few more seconds before he wretched. Draco took his spit dripping fingers and stroked them over his cock. Harry moved his mouth back to Draco’s cock but Draco grabbed the back of his head. 

“Ask first.” 

Harry shuddered. 

“Please?” 

“Please what?” 

“I want your dick in my mouth.” 

Draco beamed at him. 

“Yess Potter.” 

Draco pulled his head over and guided his cock in between his lips, pushing his head down. Harry let Draco hold his head as he slowly fucked his mouth. Every few strokes he pushed at the back of Harry’s throat, keeping eye contact, watching him struggling, retching, the spit running down his face. 

Harry pushed himself harder, wanting all of it, ignoring his throats protesting. He closed his eyes in frustration as he gagged again and yanked his head back, gasping in a breath. 

“Yesss, oh Potter.” 

Harry pushed his head straight back down, wanting it so badly. He put his hands on Draco’s arse, pulling him in further. 

Draco groaned. 

“Yes. Yes, Potter, yesss.” 

Draco pushed harder on the back of his head, his neck. Harry couldn’t breathe. He didn’t care. He was on the edge. It was inexplicable, Draco hadn’t even touched him properly yet. He knew when he did he was gonna last a second before he exploded. He gagged. Draco pushed harder. 

“Come on, Potter, take ittt…” 

Harry pushed harder, ignoring the gaging. Ignoring his body’s protesting. His whole body wretched and Draco yanked his head back. 

“Easssy, Potter.” He stroked the back of his head.

Harry sat back on his heels and Draco followed him, kneeling in front of him, stroking his fingers down his cheek. 

“I made your eyes water.” He kissed Harry’s temple lightly, brushing away a tear dripping from his eyelash.

Harry just looked at him, dazed. 

“Lie on your back.” Draco put his hands on his shoulders. 

Harry flopped back onto the floorboards, his head smacking of the wood. 

“Careful.” 

Draco knelt either side of shoulders. Harry went to bring his hand up but Draco swatted it away. 

“No, I wanna wank over you. I’m gonna come all over that face.” Draco ran his finger from the top of Harry’s forehead, down his nose, over his lips. 

Draco pumped his cock hard, staring at Harry intently, panting. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Harry did as he was told and Draco grinned. 

“Oh, Potter, you’re a dream.” 

He cried out, shaking above Harry as he came in long threads of Harry’s face. Harry was surprised he didn’t come untouched from the display. Harry winced as he felt it hit his hair. 

“Fuck.” Draco collapsed on top of him, wresting his chin on Harry’s chest, smirking at the mess he’d covered him in. 

“You look spectacular.” 

Harry closed his eyes. He didn’t feel spectacular. He felt sticky, and impossibly hard. 

Draco reached up, and to Harry’s horror ran his hand through the wet mess on his face and smeared it through his hair. He laughed at the look on Harry’s face. 

“What? Suits you.” He brushed his thigh deliberately against Harry’s erection. 

“Fuck.” 

“Hmm…what shall I do with you? You’ve been such a good boy.” 

Draco yanked down Harry’s trousers and pushed his face into Harry’s bulging boxers. Harry’s eyes rolled back into his head. 

“God…” 

“Turn over.” Draco slapped him on the thigh. 

Harry’s wariness must have shown on his face. 

“You’re gonna love it. Trust me.” 

Harry rolled onto his front. 

“Now stick your arse in the air for me, beautiful.” 

Harry groaned. This would be the point. If this was all a joke and someone was going to come out with a camera, it would be now. 

He did as he was told. 

“What a lovely arse you have. I can’t wait to get better acquainted.” He sunk his teeth into Harry’s left cheek and slapped his other. 

Harry flushed deepest red and Draco knelt in between his legs and ran his thumbs up the inside of his thighs, holding his cheeks apart. Harry’s cock throbbed painfully between his legs. 

“Oh, you’re so tight. Look at that. We’re going to have to do something about that.” 

“ _Please_ ,” it burst from Harry’s lips without his consent. 

“Please what? Please fuck you wide open? Get balls deep inside you? Is that what you’ve been dreaming about?” 

Harry groaned. 

“Yeah?” 

“Draco, yes, yes…” 

“Well you’re nowhere near ready for that yet.” 

Draco plunged his tongue in between Harry’s legs without warning and Harry yelped. Draco laughed at him. 

“You’re just so...” Draco dripped something cold and slippery over his arse. 

Harry gasped. 

“Virgin?” Harry offered. 

“Untouchable. Desired by all. Forbidden fruit. All the best things.”

“I’m not...argh fuck.” Harry groaned as Draco pushed a finger inside him, slick and gentle. 

“You’re shaking again.” Draco ran his other hand down his side. “Relax.” 

“I’d like to see...you trying to fucking relax if you...” Harry broke off as Draco pushed harder. 

“If what? If you had your fingers in my arse?” Draco chuckled. Draco moved his other hand to Harry’s cock “Maybe next time.” 

The thought that Draco might let Harry fuck him made Harry’s mind spin further out of control. 

“You’re gonna make me come, stop!” Harry babbled. 

“Don’t. Control yourself, Potter.” 

Harry groaned. 

“Fuck you.” 

Draco slapped his arse. 

“Language.” 

Harry gasped as Draco pushed his finger all the way inside him, then slowly started to move. 

“Oh.” Harry’s body went slack, surrendering to Draco’s incredible invasions. 

“There we go,” Draco soothed, starting to slowly pump Harry’s cock again. 

Harry mewled in protest, so close to the edge, so unwilling for this to be over. Draco kissed his side, light, butterfly kisses, and Harry shuddered. 

“Ticklish?”

Harry couldn’t form a reply.

Draco moved his hand from Harry’s cock and traced circles across Harry’s ribs with his fingertips. Harry squealed. Draco laughed. 

“I like you.” 

He pulled his finger back and added another, slowly pushing, stretching. A hand wrapped round his cock again. 

“Oh god.” 

“You like that?” 

“Yesss...” Harry sighed. His body was melting. Coming apart in Draco’s hands as he pushed his fingers all the way in. He was sure to disappear through the cracks in the floorboard any second now. Draco’s fingers felt huge, delicious, but huge. Stretching him impossibly wide. He gasped as Draco’s fingers hit something inside, something amazing. 

“Oh!” 

“Yeah? Just there?” 

“Fuck. Malfoy. I...that feels really good...”

“Harder?” 

“Yes. Fuck yes.” 

Harry was cresting, his body finally getting what it wanted, soaring, contracting. He screamed. 

“Yeah, Potter, come on, come for me.” Draco grabbed Harry’s hair and pulled his head up. 

“Fuck! Ah!” Harry did, crying out, scratching his nails down the floorboards as he came all over the floor. 

He collapsed on the floor, groaning as he went stomach first into the pearlescent sticky liquid. 

Draco placed his whole body over Harry’s, pushing him down into the floor. 

Harry shuddered at the contact, still feeling aftershocks and shivers. 

Draco kissed his neck, running his hands down his sides. 

“You are fucking delicious.” 

Harry loved the pressure of Draco on his back, his weight, his breath on his neck. 

“What the hell are we doing?” Harry asked when he got his breath back. 

“Fucking. Potter. We’re Fucking. And it’s incredible.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that. 

“Don’t make it complicated, Potter. I can hear you making it complicated in your head.” 

“You feel so good.” 

“So do you. I can wait till I stretch you enough to get my cock in that tight arse of yours. You’re not going to be able to sit down for days.” 

“We can’t do this again.” 

“Yeah sure.” Draco rolled Harry onto his back. He put his thighs either side of Harry’s hips and laced his fingers through Harry’s, holding them down on the floor. 

“You don’t even like me,” Harry said. 

“You don’t want a partner that likes you. You’re sick of people fawning over you and pandering to your every desire.” 

“Partner?!”

“Sexual Partner, Potter, it wasn’t a proposal.” 

“But the war...” 

“You know what people do just before war time, Potter? Especially when it’s very likely that one of them is going to end up dead?” 

“Are you sure this isn’t a proposal?” 

Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck, Potter. They shag like there’s no tomorrow. Cos guess what?” 

“I’m fairly sure they don’t shag when they’re on opposite sides.”

“You would be amazed.” 

Harry looked at the pale unmarked skin on Draco’s skin where his Dark Mark would be. 

“If you start trying to ‘save me’ and ‘show me the light’ I am ending this right now,” Draco said, realising what Harry was staring at. 

"What were you crying about?” 

“What?” 

“The other night, I heard you crying.” 

Draco rolled his eyes and pushed himself up of Harry, grabbing his wand and cleaning himself up. Harry regretted every saying anything. His obsession with what Draco was up to was apparently still burning, underneath the lust. Draco was pulling on his clothes. Harry couldn’t find the energy to move. 

The bell rang through the school to declare lunch was over. 

Draco pointed his wand at him and Harry froze, realising his was on the other side of the room. 

“Calm down, you idiot, I’m just making you look a little bit more presentable.” 

A cool breeze passed over Harry’s skin and Harry found himself clean. He ran a hand through his hair and found it not only clean, but decidedly softer than usual. Harry frowned. 

“Your welcome. Catch you later, boy wonder.” Draco winked at him, turned and vanished through the moving bricks. 


End file.
